


Sure is Strange

by indirectkissesiniceland



Category: South Park
Genre: Halloween, M/M, Meet-Cute, Vampires, Witches, yes that is a hotel transylvania reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 03:32:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16359923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indirectkissesiniceland/pseuds/indirectkissesiniceland
Summary: Being the mountain witch is thankless and lonely, so Tweek decides to leave Stark's Pond behind and become a city witch.





	Sure is Strange

**Author's Note:**

> Every time Temari draws a Creek AU, I am compelled to write something based off of it. Thank you for putting up with my constantly getting my grubby hands on your cute ideas, my dear!

“Okay, calm down. Youcandothis, _ngh_.” Tweek’s fingers trembled as he traced the wide brim of his hat. He clamped his hands down to hide the tremor and stared into his reflection: the wide green eyes and dark bags of tiredness beneath them; the constellation of freckles over his nose that matched the exact night sky of the full moon night he was born; the formal witch attire, pitch-black shirt and slacks, smoke-gray vest and cloak; pointed shoes. The mountain witch.

He’d have to come up with a new name for himself. Or maybe he wouldn’t. There would be more like him, where he was going.

Tweek turned around, grabbed his broom, and strode out of his little cabin before he lost his nerve. For five long years, he’d been the mountain witch, overseeing the little mountain town. Casting spells to help their crops grow, brewing potions to heal their illnesses. Some witches thrived on cursing, but wicked magic drained spiritual power so much faster. It was far easier to lose control of it. Besides, Tweek liked benevolent magic better.

The little mountain town ignored him. Tweek was certain that he could run down Main Street sending fireworks up from his fingertips, and every stupid jerk in town would still ignore him. Once or twice he’d thought about going the other way and casting a few curses, just to be noticed. Stupid moral compass.

Being the mountain witch was lonely, after all. Nonmagical people didn’t come to see him, and there weren’t others of his kind nearby. Nobody would be his friend, and nobody even liked his magic.

Tweek had decided to move to Denver. The city was full of young witches and ghouls. He’d make some friends, maybe even—well, he’d make some friends, see what city magic looked like. Not feel so alone.

With one last look at the sun sinking behind the mountains, the last reflections of sunlight rippling across Stark’s Pond, Tweek raised his hands and concentrated on his cabin.

_“Abode, the time to move has come. Shrink for now, sink like the sun. When a new home comes about, I’ll call your name and let you out.”_

Warping and wiggling, the cabin squeezed in on itself like a wet towel being wrung out. It squished and folded down and down until it was a miniature keychain form of itself that fit in the palm of Tweek’s hand. Tweek fastened it to his bristles and slung one leg over the broom. The sun set, the stars twinkled above in the night sky, and with no light but the moon to see by, Tweek pushed off the ground and floated upward. Taking off was always the hardest.

It was a cool, crisp October night, perfect for flying. Tweek listened to the sound of his heavy cloak fluttering in the wind and watched the shadows on the ground move with the clouds in the sky as they drifted across the moon. A little internet surfing on the witch-wide web, and he’d found himself an apartment in LoDo. The building manager was expecting him tonight.

After a few hours, the stars grew dimmer in the sky, and other noise joined the sound of Tweek’s cloak: horns beeping, engines running, electricity thrumming, and voices—so many voices. Tweek began his descent and, when he passed through a fluffy grey nimbus, the lights of Denver greeted him.

Swallowing hard, Tweek stared. Even from high above on his broom, he could see all the people, more than he’d ever seen in his life, all in one place. The streets sprawled out in wide lanes and grids. A clock tower was all lit up in green, like it knew he was coming.

“Oh! Ah…” Tweek pulled out his phone and went to hold it up towards the sky. He nearly dropped it in surprise when he saw that he already had service. The city was different already.

Pulling up his “Witch Way?” app, Tweek plugged in the address of his new apartment building. The satellite calculated, and Tweek steered his broom towards a particularly clustered-looking part of the city where he could drop inconspicuously into an alleyway. Tweek studied his phone. The “calculating” wheel spun and spun.

Maybe the city wasn’t that different after all.

With a sigh, Tweek pocketed his phone and leaned his broom against the brick wall of the building behind him. He put up his hands and closed his eyes.

_“Help me to find just what I need. Carry me there with haste and with speed. I’m new to the city and here all alone. Guide my feet to my future home.”_

Tweek’s pointed shoes clacked together at the heels, and he let out a quivering breath. “Witch Way?” was such a great app, because it helped him avoid using the tracking spell. He could turn it off any time, of course, but it was still majorly freaky letting his shoes guide him.

Tweek grabbed his broom and nodded. His shoes tugged him out of the alleyway and out onto the main street. Typical. The tracking spell always wanted to use major routes instead of quiet side streets.

A raucous laugh caught Tweek’s attention, and he slowed his shoes just enough to whip his head in the direction of the sound. A couple of people about his age stood across the street, outside the darkened windows of a large building. Neon lights twinkled and flashed inside, the only things Tweek could see through the darker glass.

“Few weeks early for Halloween!” one of the women shouted, flicking ash from her cigarette onto the sidewalk. A guy next to her mimed putting on a hat by its brim and then wiggled his fingers in Tweek’s direction with a mean smile.

Feeling his face flush, Tweek turned his attention back to the road ahead and let his shoes lead him on down the sidewalk. Stupid! Of course witches didn’t dress like this in the cities…they’d have to blend in more. He shouldn’t have worn his hat and cloak. There was nothing he could do about it now; everything he owned was inside a keychain on his broom, and it was too cold to be without his cloak.

At that precise moment, his shoes shivered on his feet and swung Tweek around down a side street.

Within minutes, Tweek regretted his internal snarking about major routes. The neon lights of the main street made it so much easier to look around and see where exactly he was. He’d seen pictures like this on the satellite map he’d used online and had a vague idea of where he was, nice and close to his new building. The back roads were darker and more residential—and, if Tweek were being perfectly honest, a little creepy. Maybe the middle of the night wasn’t the best time to travel after all.

“Is this really the best way?” he mumbled to his shoes. They shivered as if they were responding to him and moved faster. Huffing, Tweek power-walked along to their pace. He must’ve been close if his shoes were so eager to get there.

When the shoes made their next turn, two things happened. One, Tweek finally saw some other people on these quiet, darkened streets. Two, the overwhelming smell of blood hit him.

Tweek sucked in a deep breath, his shoes urging him forward. There were two men ahead at the end of the street. The actual end. It was a dead-end street. Why would his shoes lead him here? This wasn’t his building, and—

And one of the men was crumpled on the ground, the other leaning over him. Under the flickering glow of the streetlight, Tweek could make out the distinct, growing pool of blood expanding from under them.

“Oh, _Jesus_!” he shrieked, grabbing at his legs, trying to stop them from moving forward. His shoes got the message and stopped, but it was too late. He’d opened his big mouth, and the crouching guy’s head whipped around towards him, eyes locking right onto Tweek’s. The whole lower half of his face was a bloody mess. Tweek tried to step back, but his shoes apparently still had some control, because they wouldn’t budge. He wiggled in place and nearly fell over from the effort.

In the blink of an eye, the crouching guy was not only on his feet but standing directly in front of Tweek, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and yanking him closer. Tweek stifled a scream. His whole body blocked Tweek from the light of the streetlight. There was nothing in front of him but a tall, broad shadow.

The next few seconds of still silence were the longest of his life.

“Witch,” the guy said at last. Tweek’s heart pounded in his chest. There was no venom behind the word. It was just an observation. Perhaps even a relieved observation. Pieces clicked into place in Tweek’s mind: the blood, the victim lying on the ground, the fact that this guy knew he wasn’t just wearing a costume.

A vampire. His first night in Denver, and Tweek had stumbled across a vampire. While he was feeding. Which was the time vampires least liked to meet people.

“Witch,” he said. He wished he could make out the guy’s face in the dark. The smell of blood was even stronger up close.

Another few seconds passed, and then, to Tweek’s surprise, the vampire let him go.

“Sorry,” the vampire said. “Habit. Self-preservation.” He raised his arm as if he were going to wipe his mouth on it, then seemed to think better of it. Even in the bad lighting, Tweek could see that it was an expensive-looking leather jacket. Another few seconds passed. “Bye.”

“Wh—” Before Tweek could get any sort of response out, the vampire ran past him and disappeared around the corner at the other end of the street. In the distance, sirens wailed. With a look over his shoulder at the vampire’s dinner, Tweek squawked and grabbed his phone. “Witch Way?” was working perfectly now. He was twelve blocks from his apartment.

Not leaving anything further up to his shoes, Tweek hopped onto his broom and did the rest of his traveling by sky.

*

The building manager greeted Tweek at the door, giving him a funny little smile. “That’s right, you’re from out in the country, aren’t you? Gosh, I haven’t seen a pointed hat in years.”

When the paperwork was signed and Tweek was sufficiently mortified about even owning his once-favorite hat, the manager showed him to his apartment: second floor, 2A. Tweek thanked her and bid her good night. Keys in hand, he opened up his apartment.

The studio was a tiny, empty box, but solid, just as described online. Tweek carefully unattached his keychain from his broom and tossed it inside. It unfolded and expanded as it hit the floor, transforming the empty box of an apartment into his cabin again. Tweek dove inside and shut the door behind himself. He’d definitely need to remodel before he so much as let a neighbor catch a glimpse of his place. City witches probably had way trendier abodes.

He fell into his bed, as unmade as he’d left it in the mountains. Sleep came easily, but it wasn’t easy sleep. Tweek tossed and turned all night with dreams haunted by shadows with bloody mouths and knifelike fangs. Morning’s arrival was sweet relief; Tweek awoke in a cold sweat.

Once he’d backed off, though, the vampire hadn’t been all that scary. Tweek supposed he could understand the vampire’s first reaction being…what was it he’d said? “Self-preservation.” But once he saw that Tweek was a witch, he’d let him go, almost kindly. Still, all that blood, the fact that Tweek had caught him feeding on some person he’d undoubtedly killed—it gave him the creeps.

Tweek was taking main routes only from now on.

He rolled out of bed, sunlight streaming through the windows of his cabin-apartment. First order of business was getting himself out of the mountains and into the city. He had to redesign his apartment from its rustic look if he wanted to fit in here.

Catching sight of himself in the mirror, Tweek grimaced. He’d have to redesign himself a little bit, too. A quick skim of his closet, and Tweek knew he was in trouble; all of his clothes were traditional witch wear. Nobody paid attention in the little mountain town. Here, everyone was watching. Witches would have to blend.

Not just witches. As he studied himself in the mirror, Tweek considered the vampire. What had he been wearing? It was hard to say in the poor lighting, but it looked like denim jeans, a tee shirt—and that jacket. Zippers and studs and a belt at his waist. Tweek swallowed.

All right, then, fine. If that was the style here, that’s what he’d do. Tweek swept his hand in front of himself from his neck to his waist, and his black shirt shifted from silk button-down to cotton turtleneck, his smoky slacks to dark-wash jeans. Pointed shoes became short boots. Turning to his hat and cloak, the glaring beacons of witchcraft, Tweek decided to forego the hat altogether. He put the cloak on, trying not to look at the hat, sitting lonely by the window. Another sweep of his hand and the cloak had shortened to a waist-length leather jacket. Tweek frowned. He liked the studs and zippers, but they were a little flashy if the goal was to blend in. He shook his shoulders and they melted away. Good. He blended.

Next up was walking around Denver, getting a feel for the style, maybe picking up a magazine or two. And a job. If he were living in a city apartment instead of a cabin by the pond, he’d have to have more income. Maybe a barista position. There were lots of coffee shops in Denver, and Tweek had always excelled in brewing.

Tweek headed out into the hallway and locked the door behind him. He had his errands for the day, and then he’d wander the city. He knew there were other witches here, young spellcasters all over Denver and right here in his apartment building. New friends. Maybe they had building events where he could meet the other tenants.

“No hat today?”

Tweek jumped and jammed his finger against the knob of his door. Whirling around, he didn’t see a single soul in his hallway, an admittedly short box that housed four apartment doors. A soft laugh, little more than an exhale through a nose, sounded from above him. Tweek’s apartment was closest to the stairs. He took a step back and looked up.

Looking down at him from where he was leaning over the railing on the third floor was the best-looking guy Tweek had ever seen. His face flooded. Great, so his stealthy entrance in the middle of the night hadn’t helped. Some handsome city witch had seen his country bumpkin getup anyway.

“What’s it to you?” he bit back, no longer feeling sorry for his lonely-looking hat sitting in his apartment. The guy upstairs smirked. He had short, jet-black hair and dark eyes, his skin tone deep and tan. He wore jeans and a white tee shirt, and when he crossed his arms on the railing to lean on them, Tweek could just make out patterns of tattoos winding up his forearms.

“Nothing. The hat was cute.” The guy’s smile stretched wider, showing crooked teeth. “Nice jacket.”

Tweek was pretty sure there was a joke here, some punchline he was missing. This jerk was making fun of him. Well, new to the city or not, Tweek wasn’t in the mood for teasing. He stormed over to the second floor’s landing and stomped right up to the third floor where the guy blinked at him.

“What’syour, ngh, problem, man?” Tweek jabbed his finger into the guy’s chest. This might not have been a good idea; he was even better-looking up close, his angular jaw clean-shaven. His eyes were blue.

Amusement flickered across his face. “You don’t remember me?”

Aggravation thrummed in Tweek’s ears, but then the guy reached out and, with surprising gentleness, grabbed the front of Tweek’s shirt and leaned over him, maintaining eye contact with an intensity Tweek had never known in the mountains.

Heartbeat speeding up, Tweek sucked in a short breath. “Vampire.”

“Witch,” the vampire replied. He let go of Tweek’s shirt. “You’re the new tenant downstairs.”

Tweek wasn’t sure if he liked the fact that the vampire didn’t ask questions, just assumed things correctly. “You live upstairs?”

“3C,” the vampire said. “Craig.”

Realizing a beat too late that the vampire had just introduced himself, Tweek replied, “Tweek.”

“You’re not from the city.”

Again, Tweek frowned at the presumption. Even if it were right.

“I was just heading out for breakfast,” Craig said. “Want to go?”

“Breakfast?” Tweek shivered. “Uh, I don’t know if that’s…for me.”

“Breakfast isn’t for you?” Craig asked blankly.

“Well, you know. Your kind of breakfast. With the biting and the…bleh-bleh-bleh.” Tweek held up his hands like claws for emphasis. Craig stared at him for a full five seconds before a slow smile spread across his face.

“The bleh-bleh-bleh?” he repeated. Tweek put his hands down quickly. “Well, I do need to bleh-bleh-bleh to survive, but that’s only once or twice a month. The rest of the time, I’m more of a ham-and-cheese omelet kind of guy. And as for the biting…” Craig smiled, and Tweek saw that his teeth were crooked in a way that made him even better-looking, damn him. Like the imperfection enhanced the perfection. “Well. The rumors are true.” Tweek watched as Craig’s incisors lengthened, sharpening like knives. He felt his eyelids flutter at the sight of them and caught himself. When he blinked again, Craig’s teeth were back to normal, and his smirk was even more smug.

Tweek straightened indignantly. “I have errands to run.”

“So, no on breakfast? I know a great place down in the square. Best French toast in Denver.”

Of all the breakfasts Craig could have picked, he’d gone for Tweek’s favorite. Tweek’s stomach yowled, and Tweek wondered when his humiliation would end.

“I like French toast,” he said at last. Craig’s smirk softened.

“Okay. Let me get my jacket.” His eyes dropped to Tweek’s leather jacket with more of that stupid, handsome amusement. “You can get your hat.”

“I’m not wearing my hat,” Tweek said, crossing his arms. Craig’s eyes lifted to his face again.

“That’s too bad,” he said. “It really is cute on you. Witches here never wear them. I liked it on you last night.”

He turned and went down the hallway into apartment 3C. Tweek was too far away to see what the inside of Craig’s apartment looked like.

 _I liked it on you last night._ Stupid, arrogant vampire. Who cared if he liked the hat! Who cared what he thought, anyway, or if he had been paying attention to what Tweek was wearing last night, or if he’d recognized him right away, and thought he was special compared to other city witches, and asked him out to breakfast?

Tweek practically flew down the flight between their floors, ran into his apartment, and grabbed the hat. Craig was waiting for him on the landing and wearing the same leather jacket from the night before.

“It’s cold out,” Tweek told him, jamming the hat onto his head. Craig ran his tongue along his teeth, lingering on an incisor.

“Good,” he said.


End file.
